


Make A Lovely Light

by starclipped



Category: Captain America (Movies), Sixteen Candles (1984), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Bucky has a potty mouth, Fluff, M/M, Mild Language, brief steve/pepper sort of, side Clintasha, side pepperony, silly teen drama, sixteen candles - au, the barnes family, what a bunch of idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-27
Updated: 2014-08-27
Packaged: 2018-02-14 23:52:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2207712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starclipped/pseuds/starclipped
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky’s the first outside, having stormed out of the house with a clenched jaw and hunched shoulders. When he reaches the car, waiting to be escorted to the second circle of hell, he grumbles to himself.</p>
<p>“Unbelievable. They fucking forgot my birthday.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Make A Lovely Light

**Author's Note:**

> [Sixteen Candles AU... kind of]
> 
> "Sixteen candles make a lovely light  
> but not as bright as your eyes tonight  
> Blow out the candles, make your wish come true  
> for I'll be wishing that you love me, too"

 

“Janie, get out! I need to pee!”

It’s chaos in the Barnes household. Bucky gets a headache the instant he wakes up.

“Mom!” he hears Ami yell, now that he’s conscience enough to place names with voices. “Janie’s hogging the bathroom again!”

“I’m getting _married_!” Janie yells back.

Bucky can hear his father as he passes by his bedroom door. “Not until tomorrow. Ami, go use the other bathroom – and neither of you better leave a mess! We’ve got company later!”

Bucky groans and shuts his eyes again, intent to let sleep take him for just five more minutes, but the irritating sound of his phone vibrating atop the wooden nightstand makes him sit up. The screen alights with Clint’s name.

“Hey,” he grumbles once the phone touches his ear.

“Happy birthday, zoo dweller,” Clint replies.

Bucky smiles. “Thanks.” He runs a hand through his tousled hair as his mom calls for him to come downstairs. Her request goes ignored.

“So, sixteen,” Clint chirps. There’s rustling in the background. “How’s it feel? Any different?”

“Gimme a second to wake up and I’ll tell you.”

Bucky slides out of bed and yanks open the closet door, eyeing his sleepy face in the mirror that’s stuck to the back of the wood. He takes note of his features, looks for anything distinctly different. Same gray-blue eyes. Same cleft chin. Even the same boyish pout when he drops the smile he’d forced just to see the crinkles around his eyes. Nothing’s changed.

“Well, shit.”

Clint laughs. “I really hope you weren’t checking to see if your dick got bigger.”

Bucky makes a face at himself in the mirror, pretending Clint can see it. “Shut up, dumbass.”

“Look, the only change that happens when you’re sixteen is that you can get a license. And refresh my memory on when that’s gonna happen?”

“I dunno. Haven’t had time to study for the test.”

“Becky, go get your brother!” his mother shouts. Bucky rubs at his eyes, hoping the headache will disappear before Becky’s banging on the door makes it worse.

“Haven’t had time? What the hell’s been keeping you busy?”

“Bucky Bear!” Becky practically screams, making him cringe. Clint’s laughing so hard, he’s breaking up. “Mommy wants you down stairs!”

“Shut the fuck up, Becky!”

She gasps. “Mom! Bucky told me to shut the fuck up!”

“ _Becky!_ ” His mother shrieks. Then, even more scandalized – “ _Bucky!_ ”

“I’ll see you at school,” Bucky mumbles into the phone. He hangs up before Clint can say a word.

Sighing, he takes one last look into the mirror, twisting his mouth into different positions and moving his head side to side. So what if he looks the same? Something else is bound to change.

**_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _**

There’s no time to shower. Bucky throws on an ivory waffle-weave shirt, slips into black jeans and worn boots, and heads out towards the stairs with his backpack sweeping the floor behind him. He stops on the last step and watches as his mother shoves a purple lunch bag into his youngest sister’s pack.

“Have a good day, Ami. Try not to stain your jeans at recess again, okay?”

Ami waves their mother off as she races down the street to catch the bus. Luckily for Bucky and Becky, their school is close enough to get a ride to. If only their father could find his briefcase.

“You’re the last one to see it, Winnie,” he accuses. “You’re the last one to see _everything_ that goes missing.”

Winnie rolls her eyes. “Go check the laundry room, where it’s _supposed_ to be.”

Mr. Barnes disappears around the corner, but his voice is still just as loud. “Are we having dinner with the Solviminis?”

“The _Salvemini’s_ , George,” Winnie corrects. “Janie’ll smack you if you can’t get it right. And yeah, six o’clock.”

When she turns towards the stairs, she’s met with an expectant expression on her only son’s face. “Oh!” she says brightly, like she’s just remembered something. Bucky gives a small smile and waits. “Here’s a ten. Buy your lunch today. We need all we can spare for when Pop and GG get here.”

Bucky gapes at her for a moment, reaching out slowly to take the folded bills from her grasp. She gives him an odd look but says nothing.

“Found it!” George Barnes shouts, effectively stealing all of what little attention Bucky had been receiving. “Let’s go!”

Bucky’s the first outside, having stormed out of the house with a clenched jaw and hunched shoulders. When he reaches the car, waiting to be escorted to the second circle of hell, he grumbles to himself.

“Unbelievable. They fucking forgot my birthday.”

********************

“It probably just slipped their minds,” Clint tells him before the first bell rings. He’s leaning against the wall near Bucky’s locker, wearing triangular sunglasses and satchel shaped like an arrow. There’s a bird pin on the collar of his trench coat.

“To forget is to fail to remember,” Bucky grunts, pulling a physics textbook from the messy depths of his locker. “Slipping their minds is the same thing.” He levels Clint with a sardonic look, assuming he’s being watched behind those weird purple lenses. “Why’re you wearing that, anyway? You look like a flasher.”

Clint brushes a hand tenderly over his coat. “I do not. And maybe it was just the morning rush frazzling their brains. Janie’s getting married tomorrow, right?”

 “To Tom Salvemini.”

“That bonehead?” Clint whistles. “Well, if he can get a catch like Janie then _your_ possibilities are endless.”

Bucky slams his locker shut and jabs Clint with his inhumanely heavy textbook. It’s in that exact moment he sees _him_ rounding the corner; the golden haired, cerulean-eyed, impeccable specimen of a human being named Steve Rogers.

Bucky’s had a – a _thing_ for Steve Rogers since he was twelve years old and discovered that the wind wasn’t the only thing getting his dick hard. Steve was sort of different then, though; smaller, a little shorter than Bucky. A skinny, scrappy little punk who helped old women carry groceries and punched guys twice his size if he caught them being disrespectful in any sort of capacity. Steve hadn’t grown into his chiseled jaw or his dumbo ears until 8 th grade, when he’d had a growth spurt and was struck with the sudden inspiration to start working out. Bucky was deeply smitten long before that. Still is.

He’s also invisible.

Bucky tries hard to be discreet with his staring, he really does, but even he knows he’s a little too obvious at times. Like now. The fact that he can’t take his eyes off Steve’s hand clasped gently around Pepper’s, his girlfriend of two years who also happens to be Class President, only serves to make his morning that much more miserable.

Clint sighs long-sufferingly as soon as Steve and Pepper pass them by, rounding another corner.

“You sicken me,” he tells Bucky.

“Shut up.”

********************

Because Bucky is never lucky, he has Physics and Calculus as his first two classes. On a good day, he’s fine in both; not exceptional, but definitely above average. Today, however, is not a good day.

So it’s a relief when Study Hall comes around, the third and final class before lunch. Bucky takes his usual seat right in front of Clint and tries to ignore the urge to watch Steve as he moves to take his own spot in the desk that’s two behind and one over. 

He gets distracted anyway when Clint reaches forward to slap a sheet of paper on top of his binder.

“It’s from Sam,” Clint explains. “He’s doing some survey for his psychology class. Told him I’d help spread the word.”

Bucky peers down at the paper and raises a brow when his eyes scan the title: _Teens and the Sexual Agenda._ Bucky twists around in his squeaky chair to give Clint the full force of his _what the hell_ expression. His friend merely shrugs.

The first question on the page – _Are you a virgin?_ – is enough to make him want to drop his head to the desk, but the survey is anonymous so, really, he’s got nothing to lose. He starts scribbling out his answers.

He fills out all of the ten questions fairly quickly, only hesitating on the extra eleventh that’s been added. It’s in pencil. Clint’s handwriting isn’t hard to distinguish.

_Who do you want to have sex with?_ _(Be honest. Your name’s not on this so it’s okay and Sam won’t say anything.)_

Bucky bites his lip and puts his pen to the paper, steadily writing out a name in blue ink.

_Steve Rogers_

As an afterthought, he wonders how many others would’ve written the same thing.

Bucky folds the paper up into a tight triangle and turns just enough to drop it back onto Clint’s desk, freezing when he realizes he’s being watched. Steve’s steady gaze makes Bucky feel like he’s been caught in a vice. Before he can truly panic, he drops the note hastily and jerks back around to stare resolutely at the blank whiteboard for the rest of the period.

He does _not_ think about why Steve was staring at him. He _doesn’t_.

But Steve thinks about it. In fact, he can’t think about anything else. Bucky looked like he’d been caught red-handed dropping that note on Clint Barton’s desk, like Steve was Mr. Ellis and would confiscate the folded piece of paper to read aloud whatever secrets were hidden inside. But Steve would never invade someone’s privacy like that.

Then Clint Barton stands to follow Bucky out of the classroom and the note falls to the floor without anyone noticing. Steve changes his mind pretty damn quickly. When it comes to Bucky Barnes, Steve’s curiosity never settles.

**_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _**

“Did you fill it out or what?” Clint asks once they enter the crowded halls.

Bucky slows down and turns his head, eyes narrowed. “Yeah… I already gave it to you.”

“When?”

Bucky exhales deep and fast through his nostrils. “ _What the fuck, Clint!_ ”

“Hey, whoa, calm down. I’m assuming you wrote down how much you wanna bone Steve –”

Bucky shoves Clint against the wall, hissing something like _shut up_.

Clint holds out his palms. “You weren’t stupid enough to write your name on it, right? No one’s gonna know it was you. Relax, Barnes.”

“What if Steve finds it? He probably saw me drop it. He’s gonna fucking know, you piece of shit!”

“Bucky, calm the fuck down. He wouldn’t even care to read it, okay? Why would he?”

Bucky crosses his arms against his chest and turns on his heel with a huff. “Thanks, pal. That’s real nice.”

“I’m just sayin’…”

Bucky passes his fingers through his dark hair. It’s messier today, slicked down more than the usual slight pompadour style due to his shower skip. He can’t even be bothered to care.

“I don’t need your _just sayin’_ ,” he complains, shaking his head. “This is the shittiest day I’ve ever had.”

********************

The cafeteria is big and darkly colored, supplied with a mixture of round and rectangular tables. There’s a stage off to the side that’s either used as an extended seating area or a place for the freshmen to practice their latest drama club play.

Despite lunchtime being split, the cafeteria is always crowded.

Steve sits at one of the round center tables, the spot on his left taken by Sam Wilson and the spot on his right left vacant for Pepper Potts. Brock Rumlow’s across from him, sandwiched between Thor Odinson and Carol Danvers. They all eat and laugh and talk while Steve tries to discreetly scan the note Bucky had dropped in Study Hall from his lap half under the table.

He reads the question “ _Who do you want to have sex with?”_ And then the answer: _Steve Rogers_.

His stomach clenches.

“Awe, Steve’s blushing,” Carol teases.

Steve’s grip tightens on the paper as he glances up, no doubt looking as caught as Bucky had earlier. He swallows thickly.

“Love letter from Pepper?” she asks with a grin, waving her plastic fork in the air.

All Steve can do is smile tightly and hope Sam hadn’t been peeking down at the page.

**_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _**

When Bucky enters the cafeteria, tray in hand and Clint on his tail, he’s pouting.

Logically, he knows Clint’s probably right. Even if Steve _did_ see the note fall, he wouldn’t care. And if anyone else was nosy enough to pick it up there’s no way they’d know who wrote it.

Still, he sulks.

“You were talking robots with Stark the other day in the lot, right? Steve probably heard and decided you were too much of a dork to go out with.”

“Shut the fuck up, Clint. At least I don’t have a bird fetish.”

Clint makes a choking sound. “It’s _not_ a _fetish_! God, you’re sick, Barnes.”

********************

Steve has gym after lunch. It’s one of his favorite classes, as most people would believe, but not for the reasons they seem to think. He has to keep in shape for wrestling and track, which means pushups and jogging. And if he gets a little _too_ into baseball whenever Coach Phillips lets them out for the day, he can’t really be faulted. But what Steve likes most about gym is the reminder of his blessings. He hasn’t always been strong, had to work hard to overcome his body’s initial desire to be nothing but small and weak, so he knows the value of strength and respects it, doesn’t abuse it. Not like some of the jerks around the school, one of which sits with him at lunch and does pull-ups by his side now.

“Hey, Rumlow?” he grunts out on the rise, pausing for a moment before easing himself back down. Brock goes up then, not dropping until Steve starts the next pull. “You know Bucky, right? Bucky Barnes?”

“Uh… I know _of_ him.” He makes a face, glancing at Steve from the corner of his eye. “The sophomore, right?”

Steve licks his lips, keeps going. “Yeah. He’s, uh, pretty neat.”

Rumlow laughs. “Neat? Personally, I’d use the word _weird_.”

Steve plops his feet back onto the ground but doesn’t let go of the bar. He frowns. “Why?”

Rumlow mirrors him. “The kid builds robots with Stark and the rest of the Science nerds. He speaks Russian, hangs out with that bird freak Barton, and listens to fucking jazz music. He’s a dork, Rogers.”

Steve huffs. “Really? Because what I’m hearing is that he’s smart and mature for his age.”

Rumlow tilts his head and eyes Steve suspiciously. “Why do you care about him, anyway?”

“I have Study Hall with him,” Steve tries to explain. “I catch him looking at me a lot.”

“He’s probably got some big gay crush on you. What’s your point?”

Steve doesn’t know why he’s talking to Rumlow about this, he doesn’t even like him all that much, but it feels good to get it off his chest. “Sam thinks Bucky’s in love with me.”

“And? Lemme break it down for you. One: he’s a guy –”

“You know I’m bisexual,” Steve interrupts, perhaps a bit indignantly.

“Yeah, with a preference for women. Two: he’s a _kid_. What would you even do with that? Some dweeby little boy isn’t gonna party like the rest of us. Three: you’ve got Pepper. She’s perfect, man. Tall and beautiful. Smart as a whip. So stop thinking about some stupid sophomore and start thinking about taking your girlfriend to the party I’m throwin’ after the dance tonight.”

Steve hums and starts his jog around the gym with Rumlow trailing behind. He lets around ten minutes pass before he says anything more.

“But he’s… cute. He’s got a really nice smile.”

“For fuck’s sake, Rogers.”

********************

Bucky’s last class is gym. He doesn’t mind it too much, prefers the days they play baseball or basketball to the days they run track or do fitness testing. 

Today, they played dodgeball, which was fine for both Bucky and Clint because they have remarkable aim. Bucky has fun for a while, effectively forgetting about the potential humiliation he could face if Steve found his note. When the final game ends and it’s time to hit the showers, he’s back to one problem: his family’s forgetfulness.

And then, while he’s ruffling his soaked hair with a towel, his phone beeps and alerts him of _another_ problem. He has to ride the bus home. Bucky groans and slams his head against the wall of lockers, nearly sliding off the bench in the process. Clint throws him his wadded up shirt.

“You goin’ to the dance?”

“Hadn’t planned on it, but my house is being flooded with relatives, so maybe. You?”

“Maybe,” Clint decides too. “Text me if you are, okay? And hey, don’t worry about your family. Maybe they’ve got cake and balloons waiting for you.”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Bucky mutters sarcastically. He gathers up his things and says goodbye to Clint as he heads towards the dreaded bus.

It’s full of people he doesn’t like and they’re all shouting or throwing things at each other. The bus driver gives Bucky a look of misery. Bucky could cry with how much he feels the same.

“JB!” someone shouts. Somehow it’s loud enough to carry over to the front of the bus. Bucky starts heading to the back so they can take off and isn’t quite positive he’s relieved to see Tony Stark and his friend, Happy Hogan. He offers them a half-smile anyway. “You’re way too happy right now, James. Dial it back a little.”

Bucky rolls his eyes and sits himself in the empty seat adjacent to Tony. “Not in the mood, _Anthony_.”

Tony makes a sound that conveys how disgusted he is by that name. “I’m assuming Steve didn’t drop to his knees and confess his undying love to you yet.”

Bucky laughs, though it’s not very joyful. “And _I’m_ assuming you’re only still breathing ‘cause Pepper hasn’t caught you stalking her yet.”

“I don’t _stalk_ ,” Tony states vehemently, the perfect picture of denial. “I _research._ And today I found out she’s allergic to strawberries.”

Bucky turns towards the window dismissively. “I don’t even wanna know.”

“But seriously, what’s your problem? You’re pouting. It’s a good look for you, but not a good vibe.”

“S’nothing.”

“Happy, tell JB that joke from earlier. The one about the bear.”

Bucky groans and sinks farther down the torn seat. “Please, don’t. Look, just – my family forgot my birthday today.”

Tony’s silent for a moment, which would normally be welcome except now Bucky has to focus on the shrill screams coming from up front.

“Been there, done that,” he says, a little somberly if Bucky can read him right, after a stretch of silence. Tony’s smile looks forced, but his big brown eyes are as warm as ever. “It sucks. You’ll get over it eventually.”

Bucky knows Tony’s probably right. Still, he wishes for eventually.

“Oh, and happy birthday.”

He rests his head against the murky window and breathes in the smell of sweat, junk food, and gasoline.

“Thanks.”

********************

The Barnes house is just as chaotic as when he’d left it this morning. More so now, even. Ami’s hanging off of Uncle Ed’s arms in the foyer and Janie’s talking animatedly with GG and Aunt Ally off by the kitchen. Pop has already gotten the TV in the living room to turn to static.

Bucky wants to crawl into a hole and hide for the next couple of days.

“Oh, Bucky!” GG crows when she catches sight of him trying to sneak up the stairs. He hides his grimace before turning around to face her, letting himself be pulled into a lung-crushing hug. She smells like wool, gingersnaps, and nail polish. “Look at you! Same as ever.”

Bucky _knows_ that’s not true. He’s grown at least four inches since the last time he saw his grandmother. He forces himself to swallow any sort of retort that could possibly get him into trouble.

“How’s school?” Pop calls from the living room.

Bucky untangles himself from GG and backs up the stairs a few steps. “Fine!” he calls back. “Got a lot of homework! See ya at dinner!”

“Oh, wait –” Janie shouts after him. Bucky pauses at the top of the staircase. “Ed and Ally are set up in your room. You’re sharing with Becky.”

He shuts his eyes tight and takes a moment to decide _not_ to throw himself over the railing. Bucky makes it all the way to the bathroom before he hisses out his frustration.

“Fucking shitty ass day can’t get any worse…”

But somehow it does because when he opens the door to Becky’s room he finds a red-headed girl already occupying the blow-up mattress on the floor, the one that was meant to be his.

“Uh… who are you?”

The girl stares at him with pursed lips and a raised brow. “Natasha,” she informs him, her accent distinctly Russian. “You?”

Bucky doesn’t understand what’s happening in his life.

********************

Becky’s seated downstairs, having gotten a ride from a friend, by the time Bucky enters the kitchen. She’s got earbuds clasped in her hands and a notebook on the table while their mother continues the process of making them dinner.

“Her name’s Natasha Romanov,” Bucky hears her explain. She’s pouring spaghetti noodles into a pan full of sauce and meat. “She’s an exchange student living with Pop and GG. Doesn’t know much English, but she’s very sweet.”

“And apparently she’s rooming with Becky,” Bucky cuts in from the doorway. His mom doesn’t even look up. “Which means I’m sleeping where?”

“The couch,” Becky declares happily.

Bucky glares at her but it’s wasted because she never even looks his way.

“Bucky, can you finish the garlic bread? Your dad and I have to get ready for dinner with the Salvemini’s.”

Bucky licks his lips and grabs a clove of garlic from the counter, stepping up beside his mother to take her place at the chopping board. He bites his lip as she washes her hands.

“Is there any reason for me to stay home tonight?” he asks casually.

His mother’s expression turns thoughtful. “Well… Pop and GG haven’t seen you in a while. Ed and Ally, too. I was hoping you could visit with them. And keep Natasha company. You know some Russian, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but… there’s a dance. I was thinkin’ of heading out.”

“Sure, you can do that, sweetie,” she says distractedly, nodding along as she heads towards the stairs. “Maybe you can take Natasha!”

Bucky grabs a knife and uses it to smash the garlic, dropping his fist harder than necessary. It catches Becky’s attention.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing,” he snaps, squashing another clove angrily. “Just the worst fucking day of my life, is all.”

“Oh,” she says before the earbuds get put back in.

********************

While the garlic bread gets toasted in the oven, Bucky makes himself comfortable on Janie’s bed. He won’t get to sleep in one for at least two days.

He watches her refold and repack the clothes in her suitcase for the honeymoon, the only useful items left in her room. Everything else has already been transported to Tom’s apartment.

“Why’re you being a little shit today?” she asks him suddenly. It’s only then that he realizes she’s been talking to him for the last three minutes.

Defensively, he argues, “I’m not.” Her expression is knowing. He scratches his head. “I think I’m in love.”

It sounds so weird to say, but not wrong. Not really. His crush on Steve is four years strong. It must be love by this point.

Janie drops a t-shirt and perks up. “Oh? How long’s this been going on?”

He shrugs, rucking up the comforter as he shifts. “Nothing’s going on.”

“What do you mean?”

“He doesn’t know I exist.”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “He?” she questions, slight surprise in her tone. Bucky props himself up onto his elbows and nods. “Oh. Well… why don’t you try and get to know him?”

“I do know him,” Bucky tells her. “He just doesn’t know _me_.”

Janie zips her suitcase up and stands to drop it near the door. Her hands settle on her hips while she stares down at him. “Look, kid. I don’t have any advice for you right now, my mind’s kind of elsewhere. All I can really say is ‘talk to him.’ Now, get out. I have to make sure my dress doesn’t need any more last minute alterations.”

Bucky pushes up off the bed and steps through into the hallway, shutting Janie’s bedroom door securely behind him. He pulls out his phone to text Clint.

_This family fucking sucks. Can I come live with you?_

Only a few seconds pass before he gets a reply. _Only allowed one pet and I already have Lucky._

Bucky laughs under his breath. _Screw you_ , he types out and sends. Before Clint can reply, he starts another message. _Meet at dance. 20 min._

********************

Dinner with his family, at this point, is excruciating. No one remembers that today is the day he was born sixteen years ago. And here he was thinking people actually cared about him.

Ed talks nonstop, Pop has a bad flatulence problem, Ally is obsessed with prying into Bucky’s life, and GG won’t stop talking about how she can’t wait for tomorrow’s wedding. Becky, Ami, and Janie fit right in with it all. Even Natasha, who speaks in a mixture of Russian and English, seems more at home than Bucky does.

He’s so ready to leave.

He eats with speed and ferocity, dunks his dishes into the soapy water on the right side of the sink so he can head up to get clothes from his room. He’s disgusted to find it already smells like mothballs and cough drops.

Once he heads back downstairs, freshly dressed in a checkered button-up and dark jeans with his hair combed, he escorts Natasha out the door so that Ally can drop them off at his school.

“You got someone special?” she asks with a grin.

With no room for discussion, he answers a very firmly, “No.”

Clint’s waiting for him in the parking lot, purple triangle sunglasses still in place. His flasher coat is gone, at least.

Bucky can tell the moment he actually spots Natasha because of the way his mouth hangs open and Natasha smirks mesmerizingly in response.

He sighs. “Clint, this is Natasha. She’s a Russian exchange student my grandparents are housing.”

Clint yanks his sunglasses off and gives his brightest grin. Bucky knows, in that moment, he’ll be alone for the rest of the night. He can’t even be angry about it.

The auditorium is dark, only illuminated by flashing colored lights and hanging lanterns near the exits. Groups crowd the floor, dancing wildly to the thumping music originating from the stage. Bucky weaves his way through, already having lost Clint and Natasha, and settles himself near the snack table. He’s not hungry but at least three cookies get shoved into his mouth anyway.

The crazy beats turn into slow rhythms for the couples and _of course_ Bucky just so happens to possess sensors that are able to pick Steve out from a crowd. He’s dancing with Pepper, his _girlfriend_ , close and leisurely, though he seems to be glancing around a lot during their turns. Whatever or whoever he’s looking for, Pepper doesn’t seem perturbed.

After at least a minute of staring, Steve’s own sensors seem to kick in and when his eyes meet Bucky’s from several feet away, he smiles. Bucky, because he’s an idiot, panics and nearly sprints away, only to bump into Tony.

“What the fuck – your lingering really creeps me out, pal.”

Tony crosses his arms. “You’re the only person to accuse me of being even remotely inconspicuous on a regular basis. I’m insulted, honestly.”

Bucky brushes past him, intending to slip into the hall. Tony follows.

“So, quick question.  Are you planning on talking to him ever or are you content watching from afar until you go completely insane?”

Bucky lets Tony lead him towards the science lab where Happy and Bruce Banner are hanging out, miraculously not playing with fire and various flammable liquids.

“Look who’s talking,” he mumbles as they step inside.

“I’ve conversed with Pepper,” Tony claims. Bucky gives a look, causing Tony to shakes his head and hops up onto the counter. Bucky stays leaned against the door. “I have a plan,” he says.

“A plan?”

“A plan. The objective of this plan is simple: break Steve and Pepper up.”

Bucky snorts. “Oh, yeah. Real simple.”

“It is. I just need your underwear.”

Bucky pauses a moment, blinking a few times as he processes the words he’s just heard. “ _Why_?”

Tony wiggles in his spot. “There’s a party at Rumlow’s after this. Steve and Pepper are obviously going to be there. And I was thinking – what if Steve found another guy’s underwear in Pepper’s purse? They’d have a fight, break up because Steve’s far too righteous for anything less, and then in we swoop. Brilliant, right?”

Bucky feels another headache coming on. “First of all, why _my_ underwear? Use your own. Second, _don’t_. Trying to break them up is… kind of cruel. Third, why would she carry around some guy’s underwear? She doesn’t carry around Steve’s, does she?”

“That’s because they’ve never slept together,” Tony answers offhandedly. Bucky’s lips part in shock. “But yeah, you’re right. Stupid idea. Bruce, why’d you let me entertain it? You know how I get when I stay up tinkering.”

“Wait – how do you know Steve and Pepper have never had sex? They’ve been together for like two years.”

“I don’t know for sure,” Tony explains. He’s tossing a beaker between his hands. “It’s just a hunch. But my hunches are rarely wrong. Like, one percent of the time are they wrong.”

“I’d call it more like twelve percent,” Bruce remarks dryly.

Bucky smirks when Tony rolls his eyes. “Whatever. Point is – there’s nothing spicy going on between them. Makes it easier to deal with.”

Bucky rolls his eyes and pushes off the door, reaching for the doorknob so he can exit back into the hallway. “Good luck with that, buddy. I need some air.”

“Still no luck on the birthday front?” Tony calls out. Bucky doesn’t answer, which is answer enough. “You’ve got a few hours left. Maybe you’ll get home to a truckload of _forgive me_ presents.”

“The only thing I’ll get home to is a houseful of annoying old people and a lumpy couch to rest my pathetic head on.”

**_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _**

Pepper lets Steve pull himself away to get some fresh air, though he knows that she knows he’s trying to catch sight of Bucky, who has seemingly disappeared without a trace. Steve manages to spot Clint Barton, though he’s not with Bucky but rather dancing with a red-headed girl he’s never seen before.

The hallway is a lot quieter, what with only a few people spread out along the floor, attempting to get some peace and cleaner air. Steve glances around, pursing his lips in thought. Honestly, he doesn’t know what he’d say to Bucky if he found him. He just… wants to see him again. Wants to say hi, get him to smile. He absolutely does not want to bring up the note, though he sometimes blurts things out without meaning to. He wonders what Bucky would say if Steve told him he’d sleep with him, too. Of course, that’s not the only thing he wants. Bucky is – well, Bucky seems sweet, despite the fact that he curses like a sailor in training, and he’s _smart_ and funny and wow, he’s so handsome and…

But now he’s getting way ahead of himself and it’s just sad.

Steve walks slowly down the hallway, smiling at people who smile at him. He doesn’t come across Bucky but he does get bumped into by Stark.

Tony grins and pats Steve on his bicep. “Sorry, big guy.”

“No problem,” Steve murmurs absently. “Hey, do you know where Bucky went?”

Tony freezes, eyebrows climbing high up his forehead. He ogles Steve curiously. “Yeah, I do. Why?”

Steve shrugs, kicks at the ground a little. “I saw him earlier and I guess I just wanted to talk to him. Did he rush off for a reason? Something happen?”

Tony laughs. It sounds a bit incredulous. “No. I mean… other than his family forgetting that his birthday was today, which is pretty fucked up. Nothing. He just felt like going home.”

Steve completely owns the kicked puppy look at the mention of Bucky being unhappy. Tony’s starting to see why Bucky’s so obsessed with a guy like Steve. He’s utterly genuine.

********************

_Have fun at Rumlow’s_. _Don’t let Stark do anything stupid_. _And watch out for Natasha, you prick._

Bucky sends the hastily typed message to Clint and then shoves the phone back into his pocket. He’s had enough of the day. It’s nearing 10 pm and he wants nothing more than to conk out on the couch for several hours, to be dead to the world and all the shitty people who inhabit it. So, instead of subjecting himself to a miserable car ride with Ally or Ed, he decides to walk home.

Steve’s beautiful motorcycle only gets one longing glance as he leaves the school grounds. He should be proud of himself for that.

As he walks through the cool night, hands in his pockets and eyes scanning everything around him, Bucky realizes he’s not even really mad anymore, just disappointed. He vows not to think about it.

**_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _**

“Steve…” Pepper begins as she slides her arms back into her white sweater. She’s standing near him as he straddles his bike. When he looks back at her expectantly, she sighs, smiles tightly, and slides on behind him.

They’re ready to go to Rumlow’s party. Neither of them really wants to.

**_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _**

Bucky doesn’t get a reply from Clint until he steps into the dark, TV-blue illuminated house. Even then, it’s only a few misspelled words of agreement. He really doesn’t want to know what Clint and Natasha are getting up to.

He sighs and trudges over to the couch, relieved to see a pair of folded pajama bottoms there, along with a blanket and a pillow. His parents’ car isn’t out front, so the source of the comfort and odd thoughtfulness must’ve come from Janie. Or maybe Ally trying to make up for her nosiness earlier.

Bucky flings his phone onto the magazine-covered coffee table and shucks everything but his boxers so he can redress in the simple pants. Then he collapses onto the couch with his arm over his face and tries to settle his mind on breathing, breathing until he falls asleep so he can wake up on a day that’s _not_ his birthday and not have to worry about feeling like shit when people forget because then there won’t be anything that they’re expected to remember.

Except for Janie’s wedding, but who could forget about that?

Bucky feels his face scrunching up disdainfully so he scrubs his palm across his mouth and eyes. _Stop_ , he tells himself _. Stop fucking feeling sorry for yourself._

**_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _**

Brock’s house is already trashed by the time Steve and Pepper pull up near the driveway. The front yard is littered and covered with people that have apparently tired of the mess and noise inside. Steve parks the bike as far away from any potential hazards has he can and follows Pepper inside with a hand pressed to the small of her back.

A song Steve recognizes as Rooster by Alice in Chains is filtering so loudly through the speakers, the bass crackles. The crowded living room smells like beer and sweat and far too much cologne.

Pepper looks as disgusted as he feels.

“Hey!” Rumlow shouts as he stumbles toward the two. There’s a small group that follows him. “Steve, my man! Glad you came and brought your girlfriend ‘stead of that –”

“Where can we find a drink?” Steve questions quickly, trying not to show embarrassment. He’s a little too irritated for blushing, anyway, considering how he’s being jostled by a mass of bodies head-banging past him. Pepper looks on with incredible composure.

“Oh – right, right. This way!”

Rumlow pushes through to the kitchen, assuming his group, as well as Pepper and Steve will follow. The latter two don’t, seizing the opportunity to disappear somewhere quieter instead.

Steve notices Clint and the red-headed girl kissing in a corner as they move. Then, only a few moments later, he spots Tony Stark dancing to Snowballed by AC/DC atop the dining room table. There’s a crowd cheering and throwing wads of cash at him and Steve can’t bite back his smile. Similarly, he feels Pepper vibrating with laughter from beside him.

So he leaves her there, only stays a moment longer to watch her disappear through the mass of people, hoping to get closer to Tony. Steve’s not oblivious. He knows Pepper might be a little enamored with Tony Stark, just like Steve might be a little enamored with Bucky Barnes. Thing is, no one is quite sure what to do about it so they don’t do _anything_.

Not until now.

Steve heads back towards the corner he saw Clint and the red-head in. They’re still there, luckily, curled around each other and showing no signs of letting up. Steve doesn’t want to disturb them, but –

He startles a little when the red-head pulls back just enough to smirk and hand him a phone, somehow knowing what he’s after. He grabs it from her slowly, suspiciously, and then starts scrolling through to get to the contacts. Bucky’s number is nearly at the top. He copies the number into his own address book and hands the phone back with a clear _thank you_.

“No problem,” she says, eyeing him appraisingly. When Clint starts nuzzling her neck, Steve takes that as his cue to leave.

He locks himself in the upstairs bathroom and makes the call.

No one answers the first time, so he tries again. A girl picks up.

“Uh, is this Bucky’s phone?” he asks, nervous and careful.

“No…” she says. There’s background noise before she lets out a surprised sound. “Wait, yeah, it is. Sorry. We have the same phone.”

“Oh. Well –”

“Who’s this?” she interrupts. “I didn’t think Bucky had any friends outside of Clint. And maybe Tony, but they don’t talk on the phone.”

Steve leans against the bathroom counter, back towards the mirror, and scratches at his head. The girl sounds like maybe she’s a family member of Bucky’s, the way she’s talking. He’s pretty confident she’s not a girlfriend.

“This is Steve,” he tells the girl, floundering for a moment. “Who’s this?”

The girl laughs. “Becky.”

“Becky?” Becky and Bucky? Pretty obvious siblings, then. “Are you twins or something?”

“Practically,” she says with an exaggerated sigh. “I’m a year younger physically. Emotionally, Bucky’s so far below me, he’s not even potty trained.”

Steve stutters out a laugh. “Okay. Well, could I –”

“What did you say your name was again?” she interrupts, something sly in her voice.

He swallows. “Steve.”

There’s rustling in the background and when she speaks again, it’s quiet. “I’ve heard about a _Steve_ before. Would that happen to be you? You’re, like, my brother’s wet dream.”

Steve flushes and squirms, twists to rest against the wall far from the mirror. He clears his throat.

“I think he’s in the kitchen trying to eat away his sorrows – oh wait, there he is. Hey, Bucky Bear.”

Steve can suddenly hear a smooth, angry voice replacing Becky’s. “Is that _my_ phone, you little shit? I know you’ve got a crush on Clint, but this has gotta stop, Rebecca.”

Becky giggles. “It’s not Clint.”

“Who is it then?”

“I dunno.” The innocence in her voice is completely put on. “Some guy…”

“Gimme the phone, Becky.”

“I think his name is Steve…”

Steve can practically hear Bucky choking. “That’s not funny, you fucking piss-baby. Gimme the phone!”

“Do you see what I put up with, Steve?” Becky grumbles into the phone.

A shouted _Fucker_ and a squeal is all Steve can hear before the line goes dead. He takes a deep breath and waits a whole of two minutes before he tries dialing the number one more time.

It goes straight to voicemail.

**_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _**

“I hate you so much,” Bucky growls desperately as he stares at the cracked phone in his hands. She’d thrown the phone at the wall reflexively when he’d lunged for her. This is in no way his fault. “Was that even really Steve? I bet you were lying, too. Dammit, just go to your room! I don’t wanna see you again for the rest of this shitty night.”

“Sorry…” Becky mumbles and to her credit, she truly sounds it.

Bucky slams his broken phone onto the table and buries his face in the pillow.

“I don’t hear footsteps,” he mumbles after a moment, voice muffled from where it’s pressed against a blue slipcover.

“Bucky?” Becky questions. Her tone gets him twisting back around to squint up at her. “Umm… I’m sorry. And I’m _really_ sorry we forgot your birthday.”

Bucky stares at his sister for a moment, shock flooding his body. He feels exhausted all of a sudden.

He sighs. “It’s okay. Thanks.”

Becky shakes her head and props herself against the couch, peering down at her brother. “If everyone forgot _my_ birthday, I’d totally flip. You’d drown in my tears.”

Bucky huffs a laugh. “It doesn’t even matter anymore. I’m sixteen and nothing’s changed.”

“Not true. You’re another year closer to death.” Bucky reaches out to punch her arm lazily. She grins. “I think Mom actually remembered earlier and was way too embarrassed to say anything. Expect full on groveling after the wedding tomorrow.”

“Yeah, yeah…”

“Oh, and that Steve thing?” she starts as she backs up a few steps. “The guy really said his name was Steve. He wanted to talk to you and I should’ve just let him. I’m sorry.”

Bucky sighs and arches his back in an attempt to yank the blanket out from underneath him. “S’fine,” he grumbles. “Nothing would’ve happened anyway.”

“No? He sounded pretty interested.”

Bucky pauses for only a moment, thinking _‘maybe_ …’ And then he shakes his head, effectively scrambling those crazy thoughts. “Nah. He’s not interested.”

Becky looks confused. “Why not?” She puts her hands on her hips when Bucky shrugs. “I’m not gonna make a habit of complimenting you, but since today _is_ your birthday… You’re a pretty great guy, you know? You’re a good brother when you wanna be and honestly, you’re my favorite member of this weirdo family. You’re really funny. Like, do you know how many times milk’s come out my nose at dinner? And you look a lot like mom, who’s really pretty, which… I’m not saying _you’re_ pretty, but I’m saying my friends think you’re cute. Don’t let this make your head bigger, but you’re so smart and I… kinda look up to you. So, there. This Steve guy should be crawling all over you.”

Bucky doesn’t want to show how truly touched he is, but his smile is effortless and refuses to disappear.

“Thanks, Becky.” There’s nothing but sincerity in his tone. “I’ll get over it eventually, okay? Just go get some sleep. Janie’s gonna be pissed if you wake up with bags under your eyes.”

“Kay,” Becky whispers. “G’night.”

“Night.”

Bucky wishes sleep would just hurry up and claim him. A new day is all he needs.

**_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _**

When Steve comes out of the bathroom, rubbing at his tired eyes, he isn’t surprised to find Pepper dancing with Tony. When she catches him looking, he gives her a half-hearted wave. He waits for her to separate from Tony long enough to meet him by the staircase.

“Steve –” she begins apologetically.

“It’s okay,” he assures her. “I know you like him and that’s okay. _I’m_ okay.”

Her expression is skeptical. “You don’t look very okay.”

He gives her a gentle smile and squeezes her shoulder. “I will be. Have fun with Tony. I’m gonna head home... Do you need me for a ride?”

Pepper shakes her head, wisps of strawberry blond hair falling from her ponytail. “Happy lives close by. He already said his parents would give us a ride home.”

“Okay. See you tomorrow, neighbor.”

She gives a soft laugh and clutches Steve’s face between her hands. “You’re such a great guy, Steve. We’re just not right for each other that way.”

He nods in agreement. “If Stark gives you any trouble, you tell him to go a few rounds with me.” Steve’s grin is more genuine when Pepper’s eyes sparkle with mirth.

“If he gives me any trouble, he’ll have to answer to me first.” Despite her smile, she drops her hands and sighs. “Go woo your boy.”

“Got any advice on how I could do that?”

Pepper shrugs. “You’re a brilliant and charming man, Steve Rogers. You’ll figure something out.”

As she starts to head back over towards Tony, leaving Steve and their relationship behind, Steve wishes he could’ve spoken to Bucky on the phone just so he could wish him a happy birthday, though he has a feeling that would just be rubbing salt in fresh wounds.

Steve exits the crowded, smelly house, cutting across the lawn to reach his bike quicker. But he pauses under a large tree when he hears an odd rustling coming from the branches high above. He strains in the dark and is dumbfounded to see that there are two people sitting amongst the leaves; Clint and the red-headed girl.

“Did you call?” she asks, low and with a slight accent.

Steve rubs at his chin. “Yeah. His sister answered. I think they broke the phone before I could actually talk to him.”

Clint scoffs. His legs swing through the air carelessly. “That poor, unlucky bastard. He’s getting married tomorrow, y’know.”

Steve gapes. Clearly, he misheard. “Bucky’s getting married?”

“Yeah. Married.”

The red-headed girl swings herself on the branch until she’s hanging upside down. “He’s drunk,” she explains. “Bucky’s sister is getting married.”

Clint nods empathetically. “At like 10, I think. You should drop by the church. He’d really love that.”

And that’s… not a bad idea. “Okay…” he agrees. His mind is already shifting into high gear. “Okay. Thanks, Clint! And, um –”

“Natasha.”

“Natasha,” he repeats, already starting on a jog towards his bike, keys jangling in hand. “Thanks!”

********************

Bucky wakes up to chaos once again, but no headache. The day is already starting off marginally better than before.

“Oh, _gross_!” he hears Becky shouting from the hall bathroom upstairs. “You could’ve at least opened some windows, Pop! Now I gotta light a candle…”

“You mean Janie’s not hogging the bathroom anymore?” Ami crows as she stomps down the steps in her little Mary-Jane shoes.

“She’s in our room, sweetie,” their mother says. “Don’t go in there! She doesn’t want anything ruining her dress!”

“Winnie!” GG shouts from somewhere around the laundry room, Bucky guesses. “I can’t find my earrings! Have you seen them?”

“You’re already wearin’ ‘em, GG!” Ed calls back.

Then, out of nowhere, Pop shouts, “Huh?”

“Up, sleepy head,” Ally pipes up all of a sudden, her hair tickling Bucky’s face as she leans far over the back of the couch. He cringes and turns away, whining when the blanket gets tugged off his body. “Come on. I’ve got your tux right here.” She shakes the garment bag for emphasis. “You’re gonna look _so_ handsome.”

He gives Becky a generous ten minutes in the bathroom before he kicks her out so he can take a quick shower. He shaves his stubble, slicks back his hair, and readies himself to be shoved into a form-fitting tuxedo that Janie trusted Tom to pick out. It’s all black on black, save for the shiny satin blue tie that matches all the dresses and the vest and bowtie of Tom’s suit.

Downstairs, his mother’s trying to pull her heels on as well as add flowers into Becky’s intricate braid. She spots him behind her through the mirror and sticks her tongue out, looking pleased when Bucky gives her a wink.

His mother looks incredibly guilty.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” she breathes as she crushes him into her chest despite his being taller. “Things have been so crazy, but we should never have forgotten.”

“It’s fine, okay? I’m not even mad anymore. Let’s just get this over with.”

Winnie stares at her son, something fierce and lovely in her eyes. She presses a kiss to his forehead and soothes her hands over the front of his suit jacket.

“We’ll make it up to you, we promise.”

Bucky kisses her cheek just to sooth her worries.

Everyone that can clamber into the SUV does so, leaving Janie, George, and Ally to ride in the car. The closer they get to the church, the happier Bucky feels for his sister. He tells his perpetual raincloud to fuck off for the day because today’s going to be a good one.

**_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _**

“Hold on,” GG says before the reach the parking lot. “Bucky, what happened to Natasha?”

_Shit_ , he thinks to himself. Bucky chews on his lip as he pulls his phone and hits Clint’s number. It rings a few times before a groggy voice answers.

“Are you home? Is Natasha still with you?”

“Huh?” Clint mumbles very intelligently. “Oh – yeah, yeah. She’s right here. She’s completely fine. Never let her out of my sight.”

Bucky definitely doesn’t want to think too hard on that.

“Okay. Tell her she can stop by the reception if she wants. And thanks for keeping her safe.”

“It was my genuine pleasure.”

Bucky grunts and ends the call before Clint can relay the details of _why_ it was his genuine pleasure.

********************

It’s beautiful. It really is. Winnie cries when Janie does, George won’t stop taking photos, GG cheers when Tom kisses the bride, Pop dances on the bench, Ed and Ally throw actual confetti pieces into the air, Becky can’t seem to turn her smile into a scowl, Amy won’t stop playing with the flowers she dumped all over the floor, and Bucky… Bucky’s ready for the cake. After all, he didn’t get to have any the day before.

The reception is set up in the large park across from the church. It’s breezy and sunny and Bucky could believe that Janie personally threatened Mother Nature to get it to stay this way.

He dances with a few girls when it’s time, mostly friends of the large Salvemini family. And it’s fun, honestly, just being able to let loose and be carefree for the moment. The music’s nice, the food’s good, and the company’s not so bad.

Still, he’s relieved when around one o’clock, he hears a motorcycle and spots Steve coming to a stop nearby, his gaze clearly focused on Bucky.

Becky elbows him in the ribs, cooing embarrassingly. “Is that Steve? Oh my god, he’s freaking beautiful.”

“You better not steal him from me,” he half jokes.

Becky laughs. “Yeah, like I could? He clearly wants your dick.”

Bucky flicks her ear. “Watch your fucking mouth,” he tells her roughly, willing the heat away from his cheeks. “You shouldn’t even be thinking about dicks yet.”

“Fuck you, I’m almost fifteen!”

Bucky flicks her again, harder, making her scowl at him. “I don’t care. Go talk about your action figures with Marie or something.”

Becky rolls her eyes and turns away from Bucky only to cup her hands around her mouth and shout all the way across the street to where Steve’s leaning against his bike. “Hi, Steve! Come on over!”

She slinks away and Steve starts forward before Bucky can even react. He stands on the grass in a tuxedo while Steve approaches in jeans and a tucked-in checkered shirt. It’s so bizarre. Bucky really hopes his expressive features don’t paint him as being too nervous or overly excited.

“Hey, Buck,” Steve greets once he’s close enough. He glances away momentarily, no doubt scoping out all the people hanging around. But then his attention is back solely on Bucky and it’s a feeling he could get used. “Is coming to see you weird? Clint thought it’d be a good idea and I wanted to talk to you.”

“No, it’s fine,” Bucky assures him. “And sorry about last night, with the phone and Becky… she was just messin’ around.”

“That’s okay,” Steve says with a slight laugh. The way he’s beaming at Bucky… he looks like such a dork, it’s adorable.

God, Bucky’s screwed.

“What, uh, what d’you wanna talk about?”

Steve practically gulps. “I found that paper you dropped in Study Hall? Sam’s survey?”

Dread drops like a dead weight inside the pit of his stomach. Bucky’s fists clench at his sides so that he can resist the urge to cover his face.

“I shouldn’t’ve read it, I’m sorry, but you’re – I’m really interested in you, Bucky. This sounds weird, but I feel like my life would be better just by knowing you. And if you’re curious, I’d actually want my first time to be with someone like you, too. Or maybe just you, specifically.”

_Fuck me_ , Bucky wants to say, but he doesn’t because of how easily it could be misconstrued.

But honestly, he means it _that_ _way_ , too.

“That’s real sweet, Stevie,” he says instead. He can’t really tell if his voice dropped an octave or not, but Steve seems affected by it either way.

“I don’t want to take you away from your family, but maybe we could hang out after?”

“We can hang out right now,” Bucky blurts, his eyes going wide momentarily. So he hastily adds, “If you want. Janie’s gotta a flight to catch soon anyway.”

“Great!” He clears his throat. Bucky bites down on his lip, though his smile doesn’t fade. “Let’s go then. I wanna show you something.”

Bucky follows Steve across the street, his thighs bracketing Steve’s hips when they straddle the bike. He puts on the helmet he’s given and only spares a quick glance back to his family before he flips the visor down and wraps his arms tightly around Steve’s warm torso.

It’s his first – and hopefully not last – time on a motorcycle. It’s exhilarating and made only better by the fact that Steve’s leaning back against him, encouraging Bucky to plaster himself against his back as close as possible.

Steve pulls up into a driveway, presumably of his house, and when Bucky takes the helmet off he’s more than a little surprised to see Tony sitting on the lawn in front of the house next door, giggling and kissing Pepper straight on the lips. He whips his head around to find Steve watching _him_ instead of the scene a few feet away.

“We decided to see other people,” Steve clarifies. Bucky’s definitely not imagining the way Steve’s eyes dart all around his face, lingering on Bucky’s parted lips for several long seconds before he unlocks his front door and motions for Bucky to follow him inside.

Tony holds a peace sign proudly in the air for Bucky to glimpse before he disappears through Steve’s front door.

He hears Steve in the kitchen so that’s where he heads. The sight he’s met with warms his heart. Steve’s placing a small, round cake in the middle of a large dining table, his eyes wide with hope and his lips quirked up at the corners in an almost shy smile. But there’s nothing _shy_ about Steve. There never has been.

Bucky’s eyes shut and crinkle as he laughs.

“Yesterday was your birthday and Tony mentioned your family forgot, so I thought this was the least I could do.”

“Did you make that cake?” Steve nods and Bucky just can’t believe. “God, Steve. Is there anything you can’t do? I mean, shit. You’re making me look bad here.”

“You look pretty good from where I’m standing.”

Bucky doesn’t even know what he’s feeling, that’s how far gone he is.

Steve seems to sense this, the smug bastard, and smirks a little; tries to pass it off as innocent as he holds up a box of candles. “How many?” he asks.

Bucky swallows. “Sixteen.”

Bucky helps Steve place the candles on the cake wherever they’ll fit, hopping up to sit cross-legged on the table when he’s instructed to do so. Steve does the same as soon as he grabs a lighter and then begins work on setting fire to each wick.

It’s only then that Bucky notices how dark the kitchen is, that all the lights are off and the blinds are tightly closed. Steve lit by only candlelight steals his breath away so much so that he has to reach up and loosen his tie. Steve watches him intently.

“Thanks for coming,” Steve says quietly after a moment, his gaze dancing between the flickering flames and Bucky’s shadowed face.

“Thanks for picking me up.”

“Happy birthday, Bucky,” he whispers, leaning forward ever so slightly. “Make a wish.”

Bucky hums thoughtfully. “See, I’m pretty sure my first wish is about to come true anyway, so I don’t wanna waste it…”

They lean in at the same time, pink lips meeting red. _Finally_. It’s not too soft and it’s not too sweet, but rather a little hard and insistent and warm. The kiss is enough _Steve_ and _Bucky_ to be more than just right.

He fists his hands in Steve’ shirt and pulls him closer, moans a little when Steve digs his own fingers into Bucky’s hair. They stay that way for such a long time, the candles burn out, left waiting for the kiss to end. And even then, surrounded by only darkness and each other, they don’t pull away.

********************

If a shitty birthday led Bucky straight into Steve’s arms then really, it’s the _best_ birthday he’s ever had.

 

**Author's Note:**

> (Note to AngstySuperSoldierGodmother: you were so excited about this, i hope it's not terribly disappointing!!)
> 
> I'm posting this now because if I don't I'll just end up scrapping it.
> 
> So I realize this is pretty out of character, but I actually had fun writing it so I can't be too upset. And maybe you guys will like it?? I decided to write this after writing my The Breakfast Club AU. However, I made a few changes to the story of Sixteen Candles, which I like more as a premise than an actual film.
> 
> First of all, I made Bucky Sam because he has the potential to have a wacky family, whereas I only ever see Steve as being an only child. Once again, I was tempted to go with pre-serum Steve as Sam and Bucky as Jake, which probably would've been way better, but this was what I set myself up for right away. Bucky is Sam, Steve is Jake, Clint would be Randy, Brock would be that guy in the gym... Now here's where I changed things. I had Pepper take the place of Caroline, but I don't like Caroline and I like Pepper so I skipped a lot of Caroline's story. On the other hand, I like Farmer Ted but I don't like his story line. His friends and his geek speak get very annoying and the whole underwear thing is just sort of pointless, so I skipped that bit. I had Tony take the spot that Ted would've filled if that story line was taken out. I guess that kind of cuts the movie down and, therefore, this fic, but I couldn't think of a way to add that in. And no matter who the geek was, Bucky wouldn't be so hostile right off the bat (also, getting a guy's underwear doesn't seem like a big deal to me?). 
> 
> I don't know why I tend to write Bucky with such a potty mouth. Especially in this fic, it just came out, but I had fun with it. Bucky's relationship with Becky is probably my favorite thing about this since. The thing I'm disappointed in the most is how Steve came out; far too perfect and without much personality that we can see, other than him being interested in Bucky. I guess that's my way of saying I see Jake as a pretty flat character so whoever I put in his place was gonna end up the same. But mostly it's down to my crappy writing.
> 
> (I mentioned AC/DC again. I have a problem.)
> 
> Writing Bucky as sort of a pining drama queen was kind of fun, too. 
> 
> What else can I say... I'm sure there's a lot. Umm, I meant this fic to be longer, but it just required me to speed through at some points. It's not even 10k. So disappointed. 
> 
> There were so many things I wish I could've added here, but I just couldn't find any place? I'm terrible at that.
> 
> Have some thoughts about these (very out of character) characters:
> 
> +Clint is an obsessive bird watcher. Sam shares his passion, which is why they're sort of friends. 
> 
> +I made Bucky just a tad nerdy because I like nerdy, smart Bucky. 
> 
> +I had such an issue with not putting Steve and Bucky as childhood friends. It's like ingrained in my to do so, but this story couldn't work that way. or at least I couldn't make it work that way. (Also, I usually prefer to make Bucky older than Steve, just by like one year. But here I've put Bucky as a sophomore and Steve as junior.)
> 
> +I really wish I could've added to Steve's character. I wanted him to be his scrappy, sarcastic self, but it didn't happen. I guess that's something that needs input from others. Sadly, I'm only one very mediocre person.
> 
> +I wanted Natasha to have a bigger role, but I couldn't fit it in. My idea was that she would pretend not to know much English just to screw with people and Bucky would find this out during one of the conversations that I didn't get to write for them. (Oh, Natasha sort of fills the role of Dong, mostly just because she's a foreign exchange student.)
> 
> +Title from the song "16 Candles."
> 
> Gosh, I don't even kow what I'm gonna work on next.
> 
> Anyway, however this turned out, good or bad (I'm still debating that), I hope you guys can find some enjoyment in it! I just wanted this to be really fun, so I hope that's what you got out of it. And as always, I soooo appreciate all the support. Every comment I get seriously makes my day. I'm amazed you guys have stuck around to read my stuff. Thanks!


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